The Dark Knight Legacy: Rise of the Nightwing
by mringer
Summary: This is my story of the continuation of the "Nolan-verse" Dark Knight series after the events of The Dark Knight rises. In the absence of Batman, a new hero rises to protect Gotham and help it rebuild. The usual disclaimer, I do not own the rights to any of the DC characters. Based on reception and reviews, I'll continue the story as long as I can. Hope everyone enjoys!
1. Chapter 1

Sounds of bats echoed off of the stone cave walls. In between the squeaks, sounds of a water fall and the clicking of a keyboard. A pale blue light lit up John Blake's face. Each monitor in front of him displayed a different image. One was a live feed of the orphanage above him, another two displayed live updates from news agencies, the other two showed schematics and data on the Batman's technology and equipment. John leaned back in his seat, overwhelmed by all of the information in front of him. He set his notebook down on the console and threw his pen at the desk. His eyes drifted back to the monitor showing the kids playing overhead and he felt a slight steadying and calm. He heard footsteps behind him. He stood up and turned to face the person approaching him.

"How was Florence Alfred?" John asked with a welcoming smile.

Alfred's gaze went to the floor as he chose his words. "It was just what I needed to raise my spirits."

John glanced back at the orphanage monitor. "Are you planning on staying? I could use your help." He paused. "You have a lot experience in this field."

Alfred stepped toward the displays and looked at everything he had been working on. "Are you asking me for help because I have experience of raising orphans or stitching cuts and bandaging wounds?"

John gave an exasperated laugh and rubbed the back of his head trying to avoid eye contact. "Both maybe?" He said uncertain. "I could really use your help with the Wayne Orphanage, you know the manor better than anyone. As for the latter, I'm not sure yet. I don't know if I can take Bruce's night activities and just wing it."

Alfred laughed. "Aside from the training he received from The League of Shadows, that's essentially what he did." Alfred walked over to the glass display case that housed the bat suit. He noticed that the cowl and cape were missing and the bat symbol on the chest was replaced by a dark blue chevron that went across the chest to the shoulder plates that were the same dark blue. "I see you've made some modifications. Not a fan of bats?"

John's expression became solemn. "The Batman died Alfred." He could see a slight flicker of pain in Alfred's eyes. "I wouldn't even try to become a faint imitation of what he was. I didn't do it by myself, Mr. Fox assisted. Since my fighting skills are not quite what Bruce's were, he thought it was a good idea to give myself whatever advantage I could get. The elbow and knee junctions of the suit are equipped servo-motorized joints, similar to what Bruce used to aid him in his fight against Bane. My knees aren't as bad but I could use the extra power. The knuckles of the suit have charged panels that act like little tasers. I'm not ninja trained but I should be able to hold my own now with those tools and my police use of force training."

Alfred's expression was a mix of surprise and impress. "So what of the cape and cowl?"

John pulled a black hood from the back of the suit. "I tried moving around in the suit before I modified it. The cowl obstructed my field of vision and it was too hard to look around. This is a ballistic fibre, it doesn't offer much in absorbing a gunshot but it's at least slash proof. As for the cape, I'm not a cape kind of guy. Lastly for keeping my identity, for now I'll use these." He pulled out a small eye mask.

"I see you've thought of everything." Alfred said walking back over to the work station. He looked at one of the screens that displayed a grainy CCTV screen capture of a man. The man was wore what looked like a weathered dark green leather trench coat, black slacks, and a black waist coat over a wrinkled white button up shirt with the collar open. His red hair stood out from the darkness of his clothing. In his hands, looked like an AK-47. "Who's this?" Alfred asked.

John walked over and gave a long, contemplating look at the screen. "I was able to dig up quite a bit on this guy. His name is Roy Riddle. He was originally named Eddie Nigma. He changed it to Riddle in his late teens after entering a boys home. His father was a police officer in Cork Ireland, and was also an abusive alcoholic. His father killed his mother and then tried to kill him but Eddie killed him instead. The courts saw it as self defense and he was sent to Saint Maturinus Boy's Orphanage. When he turned 18 he joined the IRA and quickly proved his worth and talent. He was a brilliant tactician and unfortunately had a perfect success rate for his terrorist attacks. To gain a little extra money on the side he also ran jobs for the Irish mafia. When the IRA found out of his additional activities they tried to kill him. He proved that to be more difficult than they planned. He turned his talents on them and caused enough damage that they agreed to leave him alone if he would leave them alone. He's now a lieutenant of the O'Malley crime family that is operating in Gotham."

"What has our Mr. Riddle been up to in Gotham since I've been gone?" Alfred probed.

"So far he's been doing a few high end jewelry robberies, mostly acting as a hitman though. Bane's action left Gotham in pretty rough shape. The city is slowly rebuilding but the police department is running a skeleton crew after many of them died during the battle. A large group of the ones that survived quit after it was done. I don't blame them, they gave more to this city than what was asked." John replied.

Alfred looked back at him. "Is that why you quit?"

John shook his head. "No, I'm still going to help. I just can't do what they need done as a cop. The crime rate is rising and criminals are starting to gather more power than they had before the Batman."

Alfred headed toward the elevator. "I'll go put my personal effects away and then introduce myself to the lot upstairs. Any idea on where you're going to start?"

John flashed a smirk. "I have an idea."

*I you'd like to read more let me know in the comments*


	2. Chapter 2

John had waited until the sun had set over Gotham and darkness had set in before heading out and following a lead on Riddle. He had been told that Riddle was doing a job down at the docks. Details were in short supply, Roy Riddle was good at covering his tracks and keeping everything off the books. He had arrived early and parked his black motorcycle down an alley between the warehouses. He threw a dirty tarp over it and headed up to the roof. He noticed how easy it was to climb the fire escape ladder with the motorized joints. When he got to the roof he scurried along the low half-wall and looked over the edge to the location Riddle was supposed to be at. He was well hidden in the shadow of the water tower over head and couldn't be seen from below. Now he waited.

A few hours had passed and he was beginning to think he wasn't going to show when a black SUV and black limo met nose to nose near the edge of the wharf. John placed a tiny parabolic dish on the ledge and began to listen through his earpiece. He watched as a man got out of the limo. He couldn't see his face in the dark yet. The back door of the SUV opened and Roy Riddle stepped out. He wore the same thing as from the CCTV still but this time was sporting a dark purple tie, probably because this was a more formal meeting. He walked to the front of the car and stood in the headlights, the other man followed suit. His face was now visible in the light but John didn't recognize him. He triggered the small camera that Fox had placed in the eye mask. He kept watching and waiting for one of the men to speak.

"Well? I ain't got all night." Riddle hissed with an Irish fire in his words.

"I appreciate you meeting me here Mr. Riddle. As previously discussed, my associates and I are planning on improving our defensive capabilities and expand our offensive ones as well. We're willing to trade with some of the items from my pharmaceutical company that O'Malley has been trying to obtain, and in return we'd like some of the hardware you have for sale." The man replied.

Riddle rubbed his chin as he thought over the terms. "Why trade when we can just keep stealing it from your trucks?"

The man gestured behind him and a man, likely one of his body guards walked up with a briefcase. He opened it and revealed several stacks of bills. "It's better for business if we work together. If you don't sell us the guns, we'll buy them somewhere else. Are trucks will become much harder to hit and you'll start losing men and start drawing the attention of GCPD. This way, everyone gets what they want and you get a nice brokerage fee as well."

Riddle smiled. "You're too good of a businessman! I can't refuse your offer, O'Malley would have my head. You have a deal boyo." Riddle grabbed the briefcase and put it in the back of the SUV. As the limo and the other man drove off Riddle seemed to glance up toward John.

John felt his heart start pounding. ' _Did he just see me? How could he?'_ Riddle went to the back of the SUV and opened up the hatch. John couldn't make out what he was doing in the back and his police instincts kicked in, if he couldn't see his hands he was getting nervous. Suddenly Riddle reappeared from the back with a rocket launcher resting on his shoulder. In a split second John considered that maybe he was going back on his deal with the man and going to shoot the limo, but reality quickly flooded in and he realized it was for him. The rocket roared out of the launcher towards him. He turned and sprinted away the ledge toward the far side of the roof. Time seemed to slow down for John as he turned to see where he was just standing erupt into a large thunderous fireball that sheared off that area of the roof. He forgot his little mic and the initial explosion was amplified in his earpiece, causing him intense pain until he pulled it out. He stopped for a moment when we was far from the ledge and realized it wasn't over yet. The rocket must have hit a gas line as secondary explosions erupted all around him. He turned and started in hard sprint again. Fire flared from holes in the roof all around him. He got to the only edge not engulfed and looked over. The harbour was a decent jump away and he wasn't sure if he could make it. He turned back and ran about 20 feet and stopped. He looked back at the ledge and pushed himself into an even harder sprint. As he neared the edge he readied his leg muscles for probably the biggest jump of his life. As he pushed off the roof, he felt the knee joints assist him in launching further. _'I'm going to make it!_ ' He thought to himself. The thought was quickly followed up by an answer from the warehouse as the entire structure exploded into a giant fireball. He felt his body get hit by the crushing concussive force of the blast as it propelled him further into an uncontrolled summersault.

"Shit!" He yelled.

His planned foot first splash just off the dock was replaced by a painful back-flop 30 feet from his intended target. His body hurt all over. His left ear where he had the earpiece was a deafening ringing sound. His neck felt burnt. His back felt bruised all over from the impact and his insides felt just as bad from the shockwave. Reality started rushing back to him in the form of icy cold sea water flooding into his lungs. He realized he was sinking and back to swim back toward the surface. He pulled himself up on of the ladders along the side of the docks and looked around. The SUV was now gone and the area was lit with the bright orange glow of the warehouse fire. John heard the sirens off in the distance and knew it was time to go. He took off in a light jog away from the area, water sloshing in his suit.

He found a payphone in an unpopulated area of the docks and fished a quarter out of his duty belt. He punched in a few numbers. He heard a familiar smooth sounding voice on the other side of the line. "Hello, this is Lucius Fox."

John forced words out that came out as a painful rasp. "Fox, it's Blake. First night with the suit was not a smooth as I had hoped. I uploaded a file to the secure cloud. Can you run it through the facial recognition program?"

He heard Lucius start working away at his computer. "I'm pulling up the file now. Ah…I don't need to run this file John. I recognize the face. It's Roman Sionis of Sionis Industries. His company is one of Wayne Enterprises biggest competitors since Bruce died."

"Why would he want guns?" John asked.

Lucius hummed as he considered the question. "Roman is known for not being necessarily an above board business man. It's probably bad for whatever reason."

John leaned against the phone. "Ah crap. Just started and I'm dealing with a tycoon trying to build an army and a rocket toting leprechaun. While I have you on the phone Lucius, can you have Alfred come pick me up? My bike kind of got blown up…"

*Part 3 coming soon, let me know what you think*


	3. Chapter 3

John awoke in his bed at Wayne Manor, light and dust created a wall of light from the gap in the curtains. He struggled to sit up in bed. His whole body ached from the night before. He rubbed his left ear and brought his hand in front of him. There was dried blood on his fingers and he recalled the earpiece amplifying the explosion in his ear. He swung his feet over this side and slowly got to his feet. He almost fell back over when every muscle and bone in his body started to scream at him. He leaned over for a moment and that's when he noticed the glass of water and two advil sitting on the nightstand. He quickly downed all of it and headed to the bedroom door. He opened it and stepped into the study. Alfred and Lucius sat angled from each other on a couch and leather chair. Fox smiled as he walked in, Alfred's expression was a little less approving.

"Gentlemen, how are you doing?" He asked coyly.

Alfred was first to speak. "Better than you I imagine. You barely stayed conscious to get into the car."

Lucius tossed him a tablet with what looked like medical information on it. "I brought over a portable medical diagnostic scanner that Wayne Enterprises is developing for FEMA. I scanned you well you slept. You have a nearly ruptured eardrum, internal bruising on your kidneys and spleen, mild concussion, and strained muscles in your back. Are you sure this is the line of work you want to get into John?"

John fell into a leather chair across from both of them. "If I don't who will? If anyone crazy enough would it'd probably be for the worst. I don't want to hear any more about my injuries unless I ask, understood? Now run me down on the intel please."

Lucius bowed his head in surrender. "The man you saw was Roman Sionis. He's a corporate mogul of Sionis Industries. His companies dabble in everything from telecommunications to pharmaceuticals. He's a less morally grounded Bruce Wayne. The other man, as you have already confirmed is Roy Riddle. As to why they have any connection or speaking I have no idea. The rocket launcher he pulled on you is nothing special, standard military issue. I wish it was something state of the art, it would at least give us some leads on where he's getting his hardware but his launcher can be easily acquired on the black markets. With no leads, I don't know why Sionis and Riddle were meeting."

John stood back up and headed toward his bedroom. "I know someone that might be able to share some information on Riddle."

Alfred stood up and handed John a small note. "Your foster father called while you slept. He was asking if you could stop by for dinner tonight. He said your brother is out from the military hospital."

John stopped for a moment and took the paper while staring at the floor. Without saying a word he walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Once he was changed he grabbed one of the few cars left in the garage, a matte black 1970 Mustang.

The drive to his foster family's home took longer than usual. He had to take new routes, as some of the old streets had been destroyed and yet to be rebuilt. He also had to avoid some of the fallen burrows, areas of the city that had been taken over by gangs and criminals in the absence of police and structure after the Bane massacre. He pulled up out front of the house with the last name Todd on the mailbox. His foster father greeted him outside of the house with a huge. To anyone it was easy to see they weren't related. Willis Todd's African American skin tone hinted to the lack of blood relation but although he was adopted when he was in his late teens, John thought of him as nothing else but a father. Willis smiled and looked him in the eyes.

"Even with everything going on, it's been too long John." He said with kind eyes.

John tried to look away. "I know, I had to work things out though after quitting the force and I've been busy getting the orphanage up and running. How is he doing?"

Willis put a hand on his shoulder. "He's in a rough place but maybe you can talk to him. They both headed inside. Willis gestured towards the den and John headed in. His brother sat on the couch watching a football game. The man sitting there wasn't the one John remembered. He was Willis's biological son. When John last saw him he was a scrawny 6 feet tall with dreadlocks. This man was more muscular, buzz cut and thin beard. John immediately noticed that his left hand was replaced with a synthetic prosthesis. His eyes seemed stressed. John sat down next to him on the couch.

"It's good to see you again Jason. I'm glad to see you're finally out of the hospital." John said.

Jason looked at him for a moment and then back at the TV. "I hear you quit the police. I guess we're both out of work."

John cleared his throat, foreseeing a minefield of conversation ahead of him. "I heard about what happened. I'm glad you're ok though."

"Ok? I lost my damn left arm. On top of that, the VA is concerned with my psychological state. I have no job, there's no jobs in this city but dad needs someone here to keep an eye on him with all of those thugs out there running around. There's no more Batman, there's even less cops, and then you run off to help start an orphanage." He snapped at him.

"If I recall you used to be one of those thugs before I pulled your ass out of the fire and almost risked my badge." John stood up. "Tell father something came up and I wasn't able to stay for dinner." He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the house. He got back in his car and took a few deep breaths. He pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number. Alfred answered on the other end. "Alfred, do you know if GCPD still has the bat light on its roof."

Alfred paused for a moment. "I believe so. Are you meeting with someone?"

"I think Jim Gordon can get me the information I need on Riddle." John replied.

"Bruce always found him fairly useful. How was dinner with your family?" Alfred asked.

John was about to respond when he changed his mind and just hung up.

John stood in the shadows of the roof of the GCPD rooftop. He had changed into his vigilante persona and activated the bat light. He now waited in the pouring rain. The sound of the drops hitting the roof was deafening. Finally the roof access door burst open and Jim Gordon rushed out onto the roof frantically looking around. He walked over to the bat light and switched it off and then scanned the roof with his sidearm drawn but kept at his side. He seemed to squint in John's direction. He could make out his silhouette.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" He demanded, gripping his pistol tighter.

John stepped forward a bit more just so that he could see him a bit better but was still concealed beneath the hood. "I need information." His voice synthesizer changing his question into more of a growl.

Jim smirked. "You think because Batman is gone you can be the new kid in town? I don't know you so I can't trust you."

John paused for a moment. He considered all of the options in front of him and came to one conclusion. He needed Gordon in his corner for this to work and he didn't have the time to build the relationship that he had with Bruce. He stepped forward into the light and pulled back his hood. "You know you can trust me Jim."

Jim laughed. "I knew you'd get yourself into this." He holstered his gun. "I can't support this Blake, if you wanted to fight crime you should have kept your badge."

John shook his head. "We both know to fight the crime Gotham has sometimes needs more than a badge."

"What do you want?" Jim asked.

John walked over to the ledge of the building and looked over to the street below. He was still getting used to heights. "What can you tell me on Riddle?"

Jim walked over the ledge and put his hands on the wall and looked down on the street. "We've tried to keep tabs on him since he popped up in Gotham. It's been tough with everything going on though. We're getting alerts from FBI of other major players talking about moving in here. We're seeing an increase in vigilantism but so far they just end up dead. As for Riddle, it seems like he's making some big moves. He may have also taken over the crime family. We got some information today and now that I see you it makes sense. Turns out you spooked him a bit and he's called in some help. One of our UC guys found out he hired a mercenary to run his army for the time being while he runs the business side."

John looked over at Jim. "Who's the merc?"

Jim shrugged. "We don't have much on him. As far as we know he's never been in Gotham before. FBI knows very little. Interpol and CIA have a better idea though but they're not releasing any information. We were only able to dig up a little on the guy. His name is Slade Wilson, ex South African special forces. He's a bad man, and I have some big concerns. If he's as bad as they say he is, but not currently wanted by CIA or Interpol, leads me to think that he may be a contractor for them on occasion."

John let out a deep breath. "So possibly another Bane, but this time less assassin and more spook. CIA won't let him roam free though if he starts kicking up dust."

"I don't want to see how far they'll let him go though. We have one upside to him that we didn't have with Bane. He only plays for money, not some twisted ideology. If the money runs out, he's gone. We're not sure where Riddle is getting the funds yet though." Jim continued.

John suddenly had an epiphany. "I think I know. When I was doing surveillance at the docks I saw him meeting with someone. It was Roman Sionis, he was buying weapons from Riddle. Maybe that's where he's getting the money to pay for Wilson."

Jim eye's bulged. "So that was you that blew up the docks. Why would Sionis need guns? John I'm worried we're losing this city." He looked over at John and saw that he was gone. "Are you kidding me?" He exclaimed.


End file.
